


the chances we missed

by greywardenblue



Series: polished with friction [4]
Category: October Daye Series - Seanan McGuire
Genre: Fictober 2019, M/M, Mutual Pining, Set in the late 1800s, TECHNICALLY it's Patrick Twycross because this is definitely pre-Dianda, lots of yearning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:22:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23171632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greywardenblue/pseuds/greywardenblue
Summary: Simon and Patrick take August on a trip into the human world, and Simon thinks about several times his life could have gone differently. But should it have?
Relationships: Simon Torquill/Patrick Twycross, reference to past Simon/Tybalt
Series: polished with friction [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1455481
Kudos: 10





	the chances we missed

**Author's Note:**

> Prompts in this work:  
> “There is just something about her.” & “I could really eat something.”

“How do you reckon they work?” Patrick asked.

Simon frowned. “With far too much iron to be safe, dear. Really, why is this so significant to you?”

“How is it not significant to you? The humans have none of our magic, but they have full use of iron and ingenuity, and the things they come up with… I refuse to believe it’s not at least a little bit fascinating for you.” Patrick stepped closer to the lines the cable car just passed on to examine them, and Simon let out a sigh.

“Papa, can we go? I’m booooored,” August whined. Simon smiled and messed up her hair with one hand, which earned him a half-hearted protest. “In a minute, darling.” He turned back to Patrick, raising his voice. “I could really eat something!” he said, hoping the hint would work.

Before Patrick could answer, his ears were drawn to a commotion nearby. Three larger men grabbing a young woman fleeing from an alley, their figures clearly visible in the dark, at least to Simon’s eyes. There was a split second when he considered turning his head and ignoring them - if only that young woman didn’t look so familiar… “Patrick,” he said, his voice harder. “Watch August for a minute, please?”

Patrick finally looked up and nodded when he saw what Simon was looking at. August stayed by Patrick’s side with only a little protest, and Simon approached the little gathering. He clasped his hands together and spoke clearly. “Good day, gentle folk. Has my governess caused you offense? If that is the case, I will surely dock her wages at once.”

The four of them turned at once towards the voice, including her. Simon knew what they were seeing: a handsome, wealthy-looking man in his early thirties perhaps. Seemingly an easy target if these men turned out to be ruffians, but there were ways to deal with them without revealing the existence of Faerie.

“Your governess, sir?” The man who spoke was the one who had grabbed the girl, but all three were examining her now, looking a little skeptical. The girl was wearing a plain dress, not quite rags, but hardly fit the employ of a rich man either. “You should tell her to be more careful, and keep her nose out of men’s business.”

“Of course. After all, it is a woman’s job only to please her man and stay in the home, is it not?” Simon’s words were dripping with sarcasm. “We wouldn’t want our daughters to get it in their heads that they are just as valuable as their brothers, and they can do anything they set their minds to. Where would the world be then, if the whole of society could contribute to its progress without being hindered based on arbitrary reasons?”

The man frowned back at him. “I have no idea what you’re on about, but that cat made an awful mess in the pantry, and not for the first time. I should sic my dog on it, at the very least. It’s none of your governess’s business, anyway.” 

Simon finally noticed the bundle in the girl’s arms. She curled around it and protected it with her own body when the man grabbed her, so it was no wonder he hadn’t before.

“My dear men,” he said amicably. “I’m sure we can sort this matter out. What if I pay for the damages you have suffered, right here and now?” He reached into his coat and pulled something out, a faint scent of apples rising in the air. It didn’t take much skill to make the tree leaves August collected in the park earlier look like money. She would have likely forgotten about the trinkets by the time they got home, anyway.

“That is… very generous, sir,” the spokesman said, clearly surprised by the gesture.

“Please, don’t mention it. Have a pleasant night, gentlemen.” Simon waved them off with a smile, the young woman already by his side without being told. He put an arm around her and turned, lowering his voice into a hiss as they walked off. “What in Titania’s name are you doing?”

If he had any doubts at first, those all disappeared the moment a cat was mentioned. Alisa had barely changed in the decades they hadn’t seen each other, but that was common in his friends, especially where disguises were involved.

“Men are barbarians,” she declared simply, loosening her grip on the young cat in her arms. “Take care of yourself, now,” she said, letting go of the animal, who disappeared into the dark. Simon couldn’t tell if it was Cait Sidhe at all or a simple mortal cat, but perhaps it didn’t matter. “I could have handled that,” she said then.

Simon sighed. “Yes, of course you could have,” he said, and he meant it. “But I somehow think your way of handling would have been louder, bloodier, and attracted more attention. Don’t you agree?”

Alisa frowned. “You make it sound like I would have killed them.”

“Perish the thought. But there would have been some broken, bleeding noses.”

She chuckled. “Well, yes, maybe.”

They had almost reached August and Patrick, who were both looking at them curiously. “Was that your kittypet?” August asked.

Alisa glanced in the direction of the building where the cat disappeared. “He was a friend. Not very careful, but that takes time to learn.”

“And I think you need more time,” Simon murmured, his voice as affectionate as scolding. “My dears, may I present Miss Alisa, a friend from my London days. This is my dearest friend, Patrick Twycross, and the shining light of my life, August.”

Alisa bent her knee to get on level with August, a little too close for comfort. “Hi,” she said. August pulled back, frowning, and after a moment, so did the older girl. “Amandine?” she asked, poorly masked disdain in her voice.

Simon sighed.

“You know her?” Patrick asked.

“I’ve had the pleasure… once,” Alisa said slowly. “I will need a few more centuries to recover from it.”

Patrick let out a laugh, but he stopped immediately and turned away guiltily when he caught Simon’s disapproving glare.

“Patrick is a big fan of human technology,” Simon said. “He was just examining these… cable cars.”

Alisa perked up. “They are fascinating, aren’t they? I liked the horses, but it must have been exhausting hauling the carriages up these hills. And there were those accidents…”

“If only we found a good substitute for iron, we could use them ourselves,” Patrick said.

“I thought you were working on ships,” Simon said, exasperated.

Patrick shrugged. “There’s no reason I can’t work on both.”

“Please, Patrick. It’s already hard enough to get you out of your workshop. If you start another project, I fear I shall never see you again, my dear," Simon said, and he tried his best to keep the whining out of his voice.

Patrick laughed and shook his head. “Let’s get moving,” he said finally.

August walked in front, joined by Alisa, who was asking her questions about her favorite dresses, toys, flowers, and what she liked to do back in the Summerlands. Patrick and Simon fell back a few steps, walking in silence.

“That was rather rude of you, to laugh,” Simon said.

“Was it not ruder of her to say it in the first place?”

Simon waved it off. “Yes, of course it was. But I learned long ago that scolding cats or friends of cats is the biggest waste of time you can find. I met Alisa through Rand, my– my sister’s childhood friend. Birds of a feather and all.”

“I’m sorry,” Patrick said earnestly. “There is just… something about her. Amandine, I mean. I still think that she doesn’t appreciate you enough.”

Simon softened. He disagreed wholeheartedly - Amandine and August were the best things to happen to him -, but he knew Patrick’s concern came from a place of love and care, even if misguided.

“You should stop worrying about me and start worrying about yourself, my dear.”

Patrick laughed bitterly. “Please. How many people do you know who would marry a landless noble who is always covered in grease and oil? I will not change myself to suit them.”

“I would never ask you to,” Simon said. “It just breaks my heart that they don’t see how wonderful you are.”

“Some do,” Patrick murmured, so quietly that Simon almost didn’t catch it. He breathed in sharply and they both turned away, suddenly more interested in the human city than each other’s face.

“Uncle Patrick! How does this work?” August’s voice broke their silence, and Patrick hurried off quickly to answer August’s questions about - some kind of public fountain, really, Simon wasn’t even going to look there. August’s curiosity amused him. When they were at home, she was mostly interested in dresses and sweets, but out here in the city, some of Patrick’s enthusiastic explanations caught her attention.

“Are we going to talk about the fact where you’re in love with him, or is that something I’m not supposed to point out?”

Simon flinched. He hadn't noticed Alisa until she was right beside him. “It’s something you’re not supposed to point out.”

There was a look of understanding on her face. “Are the Divided Courts being horrible about this kind of thing, too?”

Simon glanced down at her. “What do you mean?”

“Well, the humans throw you in jail for sodomy.”

“Sodomy?”

“You know. Two men being together, among other things.”

Simon blinked in surprise. “That’s barbaric. What about women?”

Alisa rolled her eyes. “Women have no sexual desire, haven’t you heard?”

Simon laughed. “That is news to me.”

“It was news to me, too.”

“To answer your question, no. There is the question of heirs, of course, but other than that, it is a non-issue. “

“So, if you already have August…”

“It would not be an issue,” Simon confirmed. “But that’s not… “ He shook his head. “Why are we even talking about this? I am married to Amandine, and she is not one for sharing.”

This time, there was pity in her eyes. He was grateful that she didn’t voice it. He knew very well that she thought of monogamy as a prison, and there were days when he quietly agreed with her.

“It doesn’t matter. I am happy,” Simon said, and he meant it. “Amandine and August are my everything. We’re not meant to have everything we want all at once. If only I could find someone for Patrick who makes him half as happy as Amandine makes me, that would be enough.”

“You’re fine with her raising your daughter to be…”

Simon shot her a sharp look. “To be what?”

Alisa turned her head away. “Boring?” she said finally. He had a feeling that was the kindest word she could find.

“How’s Rand doing?” he asked instead.

“You know he has a different name now.”

“Yes, of course. How is Tybalt doing? The last I heard is that he left Armorica, but that was decades ago.”

Alisa eyed him suspiciously. “I don’t think he’d like to see you.”

Simon nodded once and accepted it. Things didn’t end well between him and Rand, and it was no surprise that the man would have no interest in him. He suspected that was the main reason behind Alisa’s intense dislike of Amandine, too.

“There is a place with good ice cream nearby,” she said. “It’s closed now, of course. But if you’d like to have some, sometime. I won’t be in the city long.”

“Perhaps three days from now? I might have some free time.”

“I’ll see you then,” she said. “Just don’t bring Amandine.”

He waved her off with a sigh, and she set off in the direction of Golden Gate Park.

“It’s time we returned home, I think,” Simon told the other two. “August, your mother will be waiting for us already.”

“Uncle Patrick said he would build me a swing set,” August said.

“Did he now?” Simon asked, glancing up at Patrick. Not for the first time, he felt the yearning in his heart that it could be like this - not instead of Amandine, but next to her. But that was a road closed to him, so he brushed the thought of and took one of August’s hands while Patrick took the other. They went home to separate beds.


End file.
